It seems you can’t avoid hearing about how my
generation of parents is overprotective and isn’t allowing its kids to learn
about failure and resilience. Every time I’ve read an article about helicopter
parenting, I’ve sighed and thought “so glad that’s not me.”

The other day, however, I heard the propellers and
they were coming from me.

Each morning I drop off my 6-year-old at school
and I wait on the playground until the teacher comes to take the kids inside. While
we wait, my daughter usually heads off with a friend or two, and I chat with a
few other parents. No harm, right?

Well, a few days ago I needed to leave the school immediately
to make sure I wasn’t late for an appointment. I had told my daughter this the night
before to prepare her, but as we approached the playground, I felt her anxiety
and my own ramp up. She started worrying that she wouldn’t know when her class
was heading inside or that she would have to stand by herself. Even as I pointed
out to her the adults and kids on the playground whom she knew, I couldn’t stop
myself from worrying that a stranger would abduct her or she would injure
herself and no one would help.

We were both being irrational. In that moment, I faced
my growing suspicions that I may not be doing a good job of teaching my
daughter to be independent.

When she doesn’t want to order her meal at a
restaurant, I do it for her. When she wants help getting dressed, I help even
though she doesn’t need it. When she needs five hugs before going into school, I
indulge it. When she refuses to walk 50 feet to get the mail by herself (with
me watching) because it’s “too scary,” I don’t push.

I will admit to bouts of nostalgia and sadness
that she is growing up, and at times, this prevents me from realizing that she
isn’t as young as she used to be.

Am I just being attentive to my highly sensitive
child or am I limiting her?

In the end, I steered my daughter toward an older
girl whom she likes, and she was fine when I left. I, on the other hand, had to
focus on ridding myself of my anxiety. The irony that my appointment was with my
doctor to discuss my anxiety treatment wasn’t lost on me.

It’s a fine line between attentiveness and
smothering, and I often don’t know which side my actions land on. As parents,
we constantly question ourselves and our motives. How do we know if we are doing
the right thing?

I love that my daughter and I are extremely close,
and I want to maintain that intimacy while recognizing that though we are similar
in many ways, we are still individuals.

My goal is to raise a strong, confident woman. And
to do so, I must be strong enough to let her grow. If I am constantly hovering,
she will never learn to fly.

Comments

I've never been a parent, Heidi, so take this with a grain of salt, but Simone is only six and just beginning to experience the world without you and Luke by her side. There's bout to be times when she's hesitant still. I think that's all part of growing up. Hell, my mom still comforts me, and me her, when life gets scary!!!

You're a fine and beautiful mom, Heidi!!!!

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About me

I’m a 40-year-old woman with a darling young daughter, a long-term marriage and an established career. To onlookers, I have it all together. But in rare moments when I'm solo in the car and a throwback song comes on the radio, I sometimes have an overwhelming urge to drink myself silly, dance my ass off and make-out with strangers.
Read more...I’m not that young or foolish any more, but I also don’t feel old (despite increasing wrinkles). I am caught somewhere between young and old and I’m not the only one. This blog is for those of us who are still dancing queens yet, rather than yearning for the good old days, are wise enough to recognize that this crazy, in-between, complex time in our lives is life’s sweet spot.
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